


A mutual fondness

by D_f_m22



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 08:42:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14185194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_f_m22/pseuds/D_f_m22
Summary: Missy and Nardole need to learn to get on if they're going to spend the next 1,000 years in each other's company.





	A mutual fondness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Madam_Violet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Violet/gifts).



> A prompt from Madam_Violet. 
> 
> Just a silly, fluffy piece

The Doctor walked in to the Vault, throwing a sideways glance towards the Mistress in the containment field. 

The Time Lady looked innocent enough as she rested in the empty cage, body stretched out on the temporary camp bed he’d set up. Her shoulders rose and fell with deep breaths. She appeared to have finally given into exhaustion, sleeping away the after effects of the electric shock (and whatever adventures she’d been on prior to her arrest).

Appearances could be deceiving. 

Never was that truer than when referring to the Mistress.

As quietly as possible, the Doctor started to empty the contents of the shopping bag onto the empty floor of the Vault (Nardole had ordered some flat pack furniture, not the horrible human stuff from Ikea; the good stuff from Space Ikea. It had a proper name, but the Time Lord had never bothered to learn it). 

The shopping was just the basics- food (pasta, rice chicken. All human- he’d order in luxuries when he was sure the Time Lady would appreciate it,) hygiene necessities and a selection of clothes. He’d brought a range of sizes and styles in the hope something would fit her. 

“Day five in the Vault,” Missy declared in a broad Geordie accent. “The Doctor finally returns with some food for his captive.” 

The Time Lord turned to face the Mistress, fixing a smile on his face. He was met with the sight of Missy leaning against the containment field. It was a stance that radiated a deceptive nonchalance. 

Both Gallifreyans knew that Missy was never nonchalant. The Doctor looked Missy up and down, taking in her untucked blouse and mud-stained skirt. 

“It’s week four, Missy” the Doctor corrected as he stepped forward and pulled a chair toward the containment field. “I brought you a change of clothes.” 

 

He held out a bundle of fresh clothes and watched Missy’s lips curl into a sneer. 

 

“I’m down here for half an hour, Missy” the Doctor said firmly. “You need a shower and a change of clothes. Either do it now while I’m here, or wait until Nardole brings down your dinner in five hours. It’s your choice.” 

 

Missy huffed with all the annoyance of a teenager and motioned for the Doctor to lead the way. 

 

XXXXXXXX

The Shower was quick and to the point- the Doctor stood in the bathroom, back turned while Missy hummed an off-key tune and showered. The Doctor held the control to Missy’s shock bracelet in his hand, praying he wouldn’t have to use it. 

 

He didn’t, and the pair of Time Lords returned to the main living area of the Vault in under ten minutes. Missy scowled down at the striped jersey shirt and leggings she had been forced to change into. Her wet hair was wrapped in a Spongebob Squarepants towel, and her new dressed-down look disarmed her much more than the initial body search for dangerous weapons had. 

 

“Did you have to bring me clothes that made me look like such a jailbird?” Missy drawled. 

 

She lingered halfway between the bathroom and the containment field and the Doctor recognised her reluctance to re-enter her cage. 

 

“The towel isn’t very jail-like,” the Doctor offered as he shoved her usual attire in a bag. 

 

He’d tell her he was getting it dry cleaned, but the outfit was damaged far beyond a dry-clean and would be thrown into the first dustbin he found. 

 

“I like the towel,” Missy shrugged. “The striped shirt either makes me look like a convict or poster-girl for one of those Parisian cafes. You know the type- croissant, black coffee and a beret.” Missy sniffed and assessed her surroundings with fresh disdain. “I’m not going to be prowling the Champs Elysee anytime soon, so I guess that leaves prisoner.” 

The Doctor looked at his watch. He had five minutes left of his allotted time before he had to leave the Vault and he planned to stick to that routine- at least in these early years. Now Missy had stabilised enough that she wasn’t screeching like a banshee every time he entered or left the Vault, he would be able to enforce a routine. He’d also be able to introduce her properly to Nardole. 

 

“You’re not a prisoner, Missy.” The Doctor said and pointed towards the containment field. “Now get in the cage, I’ve got to go in five minutes.” 

 

Missy threw her head back and laughed, walking up the steps to the containment field and stepping in. As she sat down, she threw him a knowing glance and her eyes twinkled with mirth. 

 

“There,” Missy said. “I’m in my cage. The non-prisoner is in her cage.” 

 

“Yes,” the Doctor groaned at his poor choice of words. “I heard it. Look, you know you have to be here. It’s for your own good as much as anyone else’s. Think of it more as a rehab than a prison. You’ve been in enough prisons to know they haven’t worked for you. This is another chance for both of us.”

 

Missy snorted and sat down on her camp bed, retrieving a book that laid face down next to the pillow. 

 

“You can leave now,” Missy said suddenly. “I can see you’re itching to go.” 

 

“Your furniture should be arriving soon. A bed and drawers and a desk. It should make this more…homely.” 

 

“Goodie,” Missy sang. “What time will you be back down with dinner?” 

 

“Ah, I told you” the Doctor said. “I’m not bringing your dinner tonight, Nardole will. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

 

Missy’s eyes shot up and she glared at the Doctor. 

 

She hadn't thought he'd been serious.

 

“What’s a Nardole?” She said with a sneer. “Week four and you’re already abandoning your responsibilities. That’s a new record, if only your mother and first wife were around to see this. Though, I doubt they’d be surprised.” 

 

Missy’s words were sharp and poisonous, hurting him in a way that only someone who knew him as well as she did could. It was an insult that escalated far quicker than the Master usually would, and was a sure sign that she felt cornered and powerless. The Doctor bit back a retort about Missy’s failings on Gallifrey- resisting the urge to remind her she had run twice as far and twice as fast from the war than he had. He held back a remark about her short-lived daughter that he was almost certain she didn’t currently remember, and he refused to voice the fact that she had been expelled from Gallifreyan society, labelled a diseased monster. 

 

This- their power to hurt each other with just one memory- was a far greater threat to the Vault arrangement than anything else. The Doctor could take Missy’s beatings and escape attempts, but he couldn’t take her cruel words. He also wouldn’t be able to take her face when threw back an equally heartless remark. 

 

This was why they needed routine and space and Nardole. 

 

“Don’t,” the Doctor hissed. “You don’t get to be that cruel because you’re scared.”

 

“I’m not scared,” Missy said. 

 

She did, however, look ashamed of her words. The Doctor’s restraint had given both parties the chance to cool down. It wasn’t something either of them did well or often, but it was something that they needed to start doing. 

 

“Uncertain then,” the Doctor corrected. “This is new for both of us and it’s going to take some time to fall into a routine. If you don’t know what is going on, you ask a question. I will answer, and your first response doesn’t have to cruelty. Now, you had a question for me before the insult. What was it?” 

 

“What’s a Nardole?” 

 

Missy repeated her earlier question. Her voice was clipped and guarded. 

 

“You mean who’s Nardole,” the Doctor corrected. “You know who Nardole is- he’s my friend and you’ve met him. He helped bring you into the Vault.” 

 

“You’d just electrocuted me,” Missy said instantly. “Do forgive me if my memory’s a bit shaky.” 

 

The Doctor scowled, but continued. 

 

“He’s going to be helping me guard the Vault and take care of you. I’m not always going to be able to come down here, in which case Nardole will. You’ll like him, he makes a good cup of tea.” 

 

Now it was Missy’s turn to scowl. 

 

“It was you that pledged to look after my body for 1,000 years. Not the egg-shaped Cyborg.” 

 

“I thought you were unconscious?” The Doctor smirked. “You seem to remember an awful lot for someone I’d just electrocuted.” 

 

“Just go,” Missy huffed. “I hope you don’t expect me to be nice to the help.” 

 

XXXXXXXX

 

Nardole cast a wary glance towards the clock on the mantel piece. 

 

“It’s six o’clock,” the Cyborg said. 

 

“It is,” the Doctor said, looking up at Nardole. “Would you like a cookie for telling the time?” 

 

Nardole huffed impatiently. 

 

“It’s dinner time. Am I okay to go down there?” 

 

“Well, if it’s dinner time I suggest you do. Missy will be getting hungry.” 

 

“Is that it?” Nardole squeaked. “I’m about to go into the lion’s den and that’s all you’ve got to say?” 

 

“Look,” the Doctor sighed. “If we make this a bigger deal than it needs to be, Missy will sense it. You’ve got the list of things not to do, keep it simple. I doubt she’ll even acknowledge you the first time you go down.” 

 

“But sir!” 

 

“No buts,” the Doctor said. “Now, go on before it gets cold.” 

 

XXXXXXXX

 

Missy didn’t look up when Nardole entered carrying a tray of gammon, eggs and chips. 

 

Nardole shuffled in and placed the meal on the table. He looked up at the Time Lady perched on the pile of blankets. 

 

“Your dinner is ready, Missy” he said nervously. “I’m going to put it on the table and when I’ve left the Vault, I’ll let the containment field down.” 

 

“Did he tell you to say it in that voice?” Missy questioned 

 

Nardole closed his eyes and tried to remember he Doctor’s rules. 

 

Rule number 1- Don’t engage if she sounds like she’s trying to wind you up. 

 

“You sound like a robot,” Missy grinned and spun on her heel. “Oh wait. You are!” 

 

“Missy, I’m going to put your dinner on the table. I suggest you eat it, you won’t get anything more until breakfast. I’ll be back in the morning.” 

 

XXXXXXXX

 

The next four visits Nardole made to the Vault followed in much the same way. 

 

Nardole entered the Vault, the Time Lady pretended to ignore him and they both complained profusely about the other to the Doctor. 

 

“She’s so rude!” Nardole would complain. “Doesn’t say thank you or hello or goodbye.” 

 

“He’s clumsy!” Missy would declare. “And he’s stupid and he always makes such a racket when he enters the Vault!” 

 

By the time the fifth visit was approaching, the Doctor had had enough. When Nardole entered his office ready to take down Missy’s supper, he knew he’d have to intervene. 

 

“Right,” the Doctor announced abruptly. “You and Missy. I don’t expect you to be friends, but you’ve got to at least try.” 

 

Nardole baulked at the Time Lord. 

 

“What do you mean I’ve got to try!” He scoffed. “A week ago, you told me not to engage.”

 

“Yes,” the Doctor conceded. “But you’ve got to get on somewhat for 1,000 years. I can’t have the two of you going at each other all the time.” 

 

Nardole grumbled under his breath and then glared at the Doctor. 

 

“What do you suggest then?” He asked. “Because I don’t think she likes me at all.” 

 

“Of course she doesn’t!” The Doctor laughed. “You’re not me, why would she like you?”

 

“Modest of you, sir!” Nardole exclaimed. 

 

“You know what I mean,” the Doctor sighed. “You need to find some common ground and then she might tolerate you. You know the tellytubbies?” 

 

“The one with the hills and the baby in the sun?” Nardole asked brightly. “I love them.” 

 

“Good,” the Doctor said and passed the cyborg a video. “Missy does too. Stay with her for dinner and watch this. It can be bonding time.” 

 

“But sir!”

 

“What did I say about buts, Nardole…” 

 

XXXXXXXX

 

Missy watched (while pretending very hard to look like she wasn’t watching), chin raised as Nardole entered the Vault and set two places at the table. 

 

“Is the Doctor gracing me with his presence today, Mr. Dumpty?” 

 

Nardole grit his teeth and retrieved two plates from the cupboard. 

 

“No,” he said calmly. “Not today.” 

 

A pained expression crossed Missy’s face and she quickly replaced it with her usual mask of nonchalance. For a second, Nardole felt bad for the Time Lady- he could almost feel the rejection that ran through her being. 

 

“Why are you setting two places then?” Missy asked sweetly. “Have you forgotten how to count.” 

 

“No,” Nardole sighed patiently. “I’ll be joining you for dinner. We’re going to have dinner together and watch some telly.” 

 

“What?” Missy hissed, taken aback. “The only way you’re joining me for dinner is if you’re on my plate as a hard-boiled egg. I would so love to crack into your skull.” 

 

Nardole flinched and gulped. He looked up at the CCTV camera in the corner of the room, hoping that the Doctor was paying as much attention as he said he would be. 

 

“Missy,” the Doctor’s voice filled the Vault over the intercom. “Is that good behaviour?” 

 

Missy’s head shot up and she glared at the camera. 

 

“Oh, so this is one of your wee tests?” She asked.

 

“No,” the Doctor said honestly. “It’s an intervention. You and Nardole need to get on. Now, I’m letting down the containment field. If you so much as think of hurting Nardole, the telepathic security system will make you regret it.” 

 

“Is that a threat?” Missy drawled. “How kinky!” 

 

XXXXXXXX

 

The dinner passed smoothly, Cyborg and Time Lady settling into a companionable silence halfway through the meal. They watched three back to back episodes of the tellytubbies when Missy broke the silence. 

 

“You should have auditioned for the role of baby sun,” she said quite seriously. “You don’t have a face for much, but you would have been good at that.” 

 

From Missy, the odd comment was praise indeed. 

 

“You think?” Nardole asked eagerly. “Oh, I don’t know.” 

 

Missy waved him away dismissively. 

 

“I’m certain,” Missy hummed. “If you like, I can arrange for the baby to be killed then the role’s yours for the taking.” 

 

“Um no,” Nardole said quickly. “That won’t be necessary, but thanks all the same. I think.” 

 

Missy beamed and turned her attention back to the screen. 

 

“Oh, there’s one more left” she exclaimed happily. “Shall I press play?” 

 

“Actually Missy,” Nardole started. “It’s getting late, I should get going.” 

 

“Oh,” Missy sighed, a look of disappointment crossed her features. “Okay then.” 

 

Nardole frowned at the Time Lady’s reaction, perhaps the Doctor’s plan was starting to work. 

 

“I’ll be back tomorrow though. We can watch it then if you like?” 

 

Missy looked up and nodded. 

 

XXXXXXXX

 

From that day on, a mutual fondness began to grow. 

 

Of course, neither Missy nor Nardole saw it as friendship. 

 

The Doctor, however, knew differently. 

 

Especially when both Time Lady and Cyborg found a way to mutually annoy him.


End file.
